Rotting Hatreds
by DeanF
Summary: "I saved your ass all winter, didn't I?"- When a starving Andrea and Michonne are rescued by a well-armed community in the middle of winter, it seems like a godsend. However, things soon take a sinister turn...
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

A/N:- My tribute to the Andrea character, as portrayed by the fantastic Laurie Holden. I found her to be dynamic, strong-willed and yet believable, and I think killing her death detracts from the series by robbing it of its most complex character.

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Katana at the ready, Michonne tiptoed across the frosty forest floor, eyes focused upon the buck up ahead. Andrea followed behind, scanning the horizon for walkers, their sack of mostly bare tins slung across her shoulder, wincing as the leaves crackled beneath their feet.

Hiding in an overgrowth, they observed the buck coming to a stop, dipping its head to graze. Michonne took a few cautious steps forward. Blood pounded through Andrea's body; her heartbeat felt so loud, she feared it would startle their prey. Michonne took another step. Then another. And another. Bringing her katana over her head, she took one more…BANG! As she swung her blade, the sound of a gunshot burst through the air, the fleeing buck narrowly escaping decapitation.

"Shit!" Michonne spat, pulling her sword from the ground, frantically looking for the source of the sound.

Andrea ran towards her. "Where did that come from?"

Before she had a chance to respond, Michonne detected a faint gargle in the distance. Eyes widening, she spun around, where the sight of a horde of walkers shambling towards them greeted her.

"This way!" she screamed, bolting off in the opposite direction.

Andrea sprinted after her, stones slicing in to her feet. Glancing behind her, they seemed to be escaping, when a putrid hand grabbed her arm. Wailing, she tugged back, but it was no use. A tall walker lumbered out from behind a tree, mouth wide open, leaning in to her. A flash of steel whipped by Andrea's eyes; its body slumped to the ground, severed head rolling away. Michonne stood there, sword drawn, tugging a shell-shocked Andrea's wrist.

"Come on!" she yelled.

Coming to her senses, Andrea began running again, only to be blocked by a group of walkers emerging from the bushes in front of them. Michonne swept her blade across the nearest one's body as the pair broke off to the right. Their stamina had been spent; they slowed, gasping sharply, while a couple of particularly fast walkers were catching up to them. Taking a small, thick log from the ground, Andrea turned and beat one in the head. As it fell to the ground, she pinned it with a knee to the chest and brought the log down repeatedly, crushing its skull. Clambering to her feet, she noticed another few walkers descending on them. She looked everywhere for an out, a path to safety, as a crescendo of moans filled the air. The dead were closing in.

A hail of bullets reigned down upon them. Walkers collapsed everywhere they looked, dust flying. Still dazed, Andrea began breathing some small sighs of relief, while Michonne gripped her katana more tightly and eyed the treeline.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Staring at the edge of the clearing, the duo steeled themselves. It didn't take long for their saviours to emerge; four men, armed with assault rifles, two of which were clad in black tank tops and faded camo jeans, their hair buzzcut. In front was a bulbous, middle-aged man, carrying a gun in each hand. He was tugging down the sleeve of his brown jumper, and cut an imposing figure with his immense size and the stern expression set in his pudgy, rounded head. Beside him was a softer looking man, inspecting the walkers on the ground. Raising his head to look at Andrea and Michonne, he was the first to speak.

"You girls okay? No one bitten?"

Michonne didn't say a word, her grip still not loosening from her sword. Andrea briefly surveyed the group, then brushed her hair from her face, responding;

"We're fine…was that you shooting earlier?"

"Yeah", he replied, hauling his gun over his shoulder, "sorry, we must have riled them. They're roaming further for food what with winter and all. Have to cut 'em down to size."

He held up a hand to the other men. They lowered their weapons as well, looking to Michonne. Slowly, she eased her blade. He held out a hand to Andrea, which she tentatively shook.

"Name's Marcus. This is Ulrich", he said, nodding towards the larger man, "and these two are Adam and Ripley." His gaze fell to Andrea's feet, where blood was seeping through her tattered socks. "Don't you have any shoes?"

Suddenly reminded, she felt a spurt of pain. "We were hunting…they were making too much noise." She removed the sack from her shoulder and opened it up, withdrawing her and Michonne's boots as Marcus peeped inside.

"It doesn't look like you're doing well on food…" he said, concern evident in his voice.

"We're doing just fine." Michonne shot back, strapping her boots on.

Andrea frowned a little at her, then turned back to Marcus, placing her hands on her hips.

"Well, like you said, it's winter…no game, and every house and town we've been through is picked clean…you mentioned cutting their numbers down. That mean you have a camp around here?" Andrea asked, folding her arms and subtly sizing up Ulrich, who she noticed kept a firm grip on his rifles.

"Yeah", Marcus told her, "and enough food to give you two ladies a meal, if you'd care to join us. Call it repayment for almost getting you killed."

He gave her a wide, dimpled smirk, and with the threat fading, Andrea began to notice how handsome he was. He was lean, especially compared to Ulrich, but still had enough musculature that it hugged the fabric of his white vest. His significantly oversized brown shirt lent him a less threatening appearance than his followers. She glanced at Michonne, whose expression was unreadable. Shrugging, she told Marcus;

"Well, no one's in a position to turn down a free meal these days."

They followed Marcus through the dense woodland, the hushed afternoon birdsong giving it a deceptively tranquil feeling. Michonne's body was still tense, her hands clenched, eyes fixed upon Ulrich.

"Most of us were in a local history society", Marcus was explaining, "when the risen hit, we stuck together. Raided a gun store, and headed out to this historical logging town. They used to preserve it as a heritage site, so we knew it'd provide people-free shelter and all…"

Andrea looked around at the bare, pale trees, cracking in winter's grip. "Have you been growing your own food then?"

Marcus nodded. "Yeah, we lived off what we could find at first, but started hitting up the old town library for agricultural books before long. Then it was on to farming villages for seeds and equipment…we've been doing pretty well all things considered." His eyes dropped to the handgun, pressed up against Andrea's waist at the back of her trousers. "So, you know how to use that?"

Andrea met his gaze, only then remembering that she was carrying. "You don't survive this long without being able to. Haven't found bullets in a while though."

Marcus nodded slightly, and as Andrea continued trudging over the cold, wet terrain, she felt exposed. An empty gun clip did that to her these days.

They continued to exchange stories, about Atlanta, about the farm, Marcus noticeably impressed with her tenaciousness. Eventually, they passed a prominent tree, two nooses hanging off of it. Michonne's expression turned to horror, and she stepped back, hand heading to her katana. Andrea gave a cautious glance to Marcus, her mouth a little ajar with shock. He appeared solemn, looking at the ropes with a contemplative countenance.

"A young couple that was with us…they lost their child. Tragic thing was, it wasn't even the risen that got him. He had an asthma attack and we didn't have the meds to treat him…anyway, they were understandably depressed, and we tried to support them as best we could but…sometimes it isn't enough. They made a suicide pact. Found them next morning. We leave the ropes up there as a memorial to them, although I consider it something of a…metaphor, if you will. A reminder of all our loss."

Andrea brought a hand over her mouth, silently watching the ropes swinging lightly in the breeze. Michonne broke away from glaring at Marcus to scrutinize them, gradually relaxing, although she remained guarded.

"Now, we better get moving again. It's not far now."


End file.
